Three Little Words: A farewell in four scenes
by Javanyet
Summary: The most powerful events and emotions of our lives can be distilled into very few words. In the words of Shakespeare, the rest is silence.
1. Scene I, Next of kin

It had been a long day in the co-op lab. What inspired Bruce Maddox to think she'd be ideal to lead the first cooperation workshops for the first round of post-sentient androids was beyond Leo's comprehension. She'd never been known for playing well with others when under pressure. Then again, maybe she was the object lesson? Whatever the reason was, her use of an administrative organizational exercise was proving to be less than inspired. Every one of her seven students developed brilliant solutions… on their own. There was no conflict, because there was no variation, and there would be none unless and until e-chips were introduced. They were very nice in their shiny new way, but Leo really preferred managing operations to socializing people, of any construction.

The cherished theory of Maddox and the Soongs (her dearly beloved husband included) was that if the development of positronic neuropathways could be stimulated by cooperative exercises in _advance_ of the e-chip, that the more negative aspects of emotion and personality might be mitigated before they arose. When asked for her input, she carefully considered the theory, the possibility of success, and its future usefulness. Her formal evaluation was brief, and to the point: "Sez you."

Fat lot of good it did… a week later she was developing cooperative exercises for students who had only just learned their own names. The fact was that after almost eight years, the Android Cultural Project was going so smoothly that her original responsibilities in database and sub-project development were either phased out or handily taken over by others who had been trained by the original team. Even Geordi had been able to return to full engineering duties, still on the Enterprise. This enabled Leo to go on various sojourns to the Orion cluster and visit with Jean Luc, whose retirement four years ago had allowed _him_ the opportunity to indulge his passion for caves, dirt, and ugly broken stuff. Okay, those were _her_ words, and spoken only to annoy the hell out of him. She had to admit he was happier and more relaxed than she had ever known him. They _both_ were. Life after Starfleet was a beautiful thing. Usually.

Today, not so much.

When the comlink chimed, Leo responded impatiently.

"What!"

"Subspace message for Leora O'Reilly Soong."

She sat down at the console. "O'Reilly Soong here. Spit it out."

A moment of silence, then the digital voice responded, "Security code clearance required."

"Where is it originating, computer?"

"Security code clearance required."

"Who is it _from_ then?"

"Security code clearance required."

_What the hell?_ She'd kissed her security clearance bye-bye along with her uniform and commission. Even before then, she'd had to rely on Data to store the damn Byzantine security code for her, and recite it to her when necessary.

"Hold message, computer. Leo to Commander Data."

"Data here. How was your cooperation workshop today?"

"Don't ask," she grumbled. "I've rediscovering my loathing of the perfectly perfect. But that's not why I'm interrupting right now."

"On visual," Data's voice directed, and was immediately joined by his smiling face. "My love, a word from you is never an interruption."

_Crap._ He'd always been able to ruin her perfectly enjoyable bitchy moods by being a magnificent, loving, drop-dead gorgeous husband. _Poor me,_ she giggled in her head.

"You can ramp down the e-chip, darling, I'm just a _little_ grumpy. Anyway, the issue is this: I have a subspace message here but it's on security code lock."

"But you have not had security clearance since…"

"The last ice age on Vulcan, right. But it's as stubborn as only a sub space message can be, so can you do me a favor and give it to me?"

This triggered the arch of an eyebrow and a dark chuckle. "I will 'give it to you' tonight as only I can, cara mia."

"Counting on it, Marcello, but right now can I have my security code?" She switched the comlink to dual mode, and repeated the code as Data recited it to her.

"Security clearance confirmed."

"Thanks, D! And you'd better make good on that promise."

He managed a sly wink – years of practice had remarkably improved Data's facial dexterity. "Data out."

"Okay, computer, continue with the message."

For the next two and a half minutes she sat, unmoving and unblinking. Later she wouldn't even remember breathing. When the message concluded, she punched at the console with a trembling hand. "D? _D!_"

Data appeared on visual again, this time the picture of concern. "Leora Eileen, what is the matter?"

"D… you gotta come here, I need you to come _now_…"

Without ending the communication, Data ran from his circuitry lab without explaining his sudden exit to the colleagues who looked after him as he raced to his quarters. Moving so quickly he had to dodge the door as it slid aside, he skidded to a halt next to an ashen-faced Leo. She looked up at him with a pleading expression.

"It's wrong it has to be _wrong!"_

He knelt next to her chair and, wrapping an arm around his wife to steady her, requested "Computer, repeat message."

What followed struck him as deeply as it had Leo. On the planet in the Orion cluster that Jean Luc Picard called home, he lay in a medical facility after having been pulled from a cave-in at an anthropological excavation site. "Pulled", not "rescued." Even the 24th century had only so many skills to cope with massive, traumatic brain injury. Thus the captain lay, not in stasis as he had done years ago awaiting a new heart, but on life support. Technology breathed and pumped for him, keeping his body operating, but his _brain…_ that was a different matter.

The message concluded, "As designated next of kin and per the patient's wishes of record, your presence is required to fulfill his mandate."

Leo turned to Data in a panic. "He never told me about this, he never _asked_ me what I thought!"

Data took a moment to adjust his internal equilibrium. "We have known about his wishes since the events of your resignation." He pulled Leo from her chair and held her in his lap, there on the floor, as she shuddered and gasped for breath.

"I can't think about this, I can't _do_ this! Why didn't he tell me before now? Why do I get this _message _that this happened, not even a _person_ to tell me! Why not Will or Geordi or Deanna telling me?"

Data didn't try to reason with her at first, he just held on until the initial storm of Leo's panic and rage began to calm. When finally her breathing had settled, she sat dumbly in his arms, too bewildered even to cry.

"I don't get it, I don't…"

"The captain left no other option," Data explained quietly. "By the nature of your relationship, you must be the first to be told. As he has named you 'next of kin', the medical facility could do nothing else but notify you as best they could."

"But what does it mean, 'required to fulfill his mandate'?" she protested. Data's calm gaze didn't waver. She knew exactly what it meant. "I can't do this," she begged, "I can't _do_ this, why would he ask me to _do _this!"

Data hugged her closer and kissed her hair before replying. "Because he knew that you will. Even in years of observing and living with humans, and my growing familiarity with human emotion, I have never been able to analyze what comprises the powerful bonds between people as those that exist between you and I, between Geordi and I, between you and the captain. But I have learned that those who are loved most, who are the best and truest friends, they may be trusted to do what no one else will. And so they are often given the hardest, most painful burdens."

"Why, I still don't know _why._"

"Because, my love, he knows you would do as he has asked. Because he has loved you, and has been the best and truest friend to you, and you to him. You are next of kin. He knew, and you know, you cannot deny him this request."

Finally Leo sat up and looked Data in the eye. "You'll come with me?"

He hugged her tightly against him and whispered, "I would be nowhere else." Then he raised her head from his shoulder and told her, forehead pressed to hers, "I would love no other."

The next morning Data made the arrangements for leave of absence and transport, saying only that there was a "personal emergency" that must be attended to. The journey to Orion took only a day or so, during which Leo either stared out the viewport of the long-range shuttlecraft, or slept fitfully in Data's arms. When they arrived at Picard's home planet they proceeded directly to the medical center, and were directed to the Life Systems Support Center, where they requested leave to visit the patient.

"Jean Luc Picard," Data indicated at the check-in station.

"This is a restricted area," the staff member informed them. "What are your names?"

"I am Commander Data, and this is my wife Leora Eileen Data Soong. She received a subspace message requesting her presence to attend Captain Picard."

"Relationship to the patient?"

Now Data stood silent as Leo stepped forward. She looked briefly back at her husband, who smiled gently in encouragement, then turned to face the young woman at the desk.

"Next of kin."


	2. Scene II, This is different

Leo and Data were ushered into Picard's isolation area by one of his med-tech team, who introduced herself as Laura. "Please, if you have any questions at all, about the Captain's general condition, about his physiological responses, about your responsibilities here, just ask. I'll be able to help you in any way you require." She went to the captain's bedside, and adjusted his pillow, re-tucked the bed covering, then gave his hand a squeeze as if he were simply sleeping. "Don't be afraid to touch him, if you would like to. The medical systems are quite secure; it would take a precise order of operations to disrupt them," she explained.

She returned to where Leo still stood frozen by the door, Data close by. "This is very difficult for you, I'm sure, Mrs. Soong. Are you the captain's daughter?"

"Call me Leo," she corrected. In spite of everything, what Laura suggested triggered a near-smile. "God help him, if that were true. No, we're friends. I served under his command on the Enterprise some time ago and, well, some things take on a life of their own."

Laura looked at both Data and Leo, unable to keep from being puzzled by the notion that a former officer could be named next of kin without some familial or matrimonial connection. Surprisingly, Data picked up on her puzzlement before Leo did.

"There is a saying among humans, 'you cannot pick your family'. While my wife accurately describes her relationship to the captain, I might add that in this case, a family relationship 'picked' them. It has been most extraordinary to experience."

Leo took his arm and nodded. "My husband has a way with words, and with seeing things very clearly."

"I see," Laura nodded. "Well Captain Picard is lucky to have such friends. I'll stay for a minute in case you have questions about the systems." She was encouraging Leo to approach the bed.

"I am right here," Data whispered to Leo.

Leo took a breath, walked to the bed, and looked down at Jean Luc. There was no mark, no bruise, nothing to indicate he'd been injured at all, just the small device that covered part of his forehead, and the thin silvery shell surrounding it that protected the frontal area where his skull had been injured. _Crushed. Removed during surgery._ She didn't have to ask. The device on his forehead had two tiny lights, one blue and one red. _Blue for respiration, red for circulation. _She'd seen enough in the Enterprise sick bay to recognize a cortical-stimulator when she saw one. This one obviously was designed for sustained use.

She watched and listened for a minute or two, the rise and fall of the uninjured chest, the breath sounds. It was so different than years ago, when he was in stasis. No blue light, no wasted look. His color was perfect, and when she finally dared to touch his face, it was warm. And for the first time since she got the medical summons, she really understood. This wasn't the dangerous wait for a replacement organ, and there would be no dramatic, last minute rescue.

_This is different. Sometimes it is true._

Data forced himself to stand back, next to Laura the med-tech, who though well trained and genuinely caring could not possibly understand what this meant to both him and Leo. She did not know that without the man who lay on the bed, he and Leo would not be here together. She would not be working by his side on a paradigm-shifting project. He, Data, would not be the person he'd become, fully recognized _as_ a person, a man, not an imitation of one. It was not Laura's fault that she did not understand. The human phrase "you had to be there" never held so much weight for Data as it did at this moment. He waited and watched; ready to offer whatever support Leo needed as he struggled with his own feelings. Feelings he would not have except for the support of the man… the _friend_… who lay on the bed. Then Data saw a movement in Leo, a subtle shudder of recognition that only positronic senses could discern. Then her voice, so faint that only Data could hear.

"This isn't him."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," Laura said.

"I said, this isn't him. This isn't Jean Luc Picard."

Laura opened her mouth to reply, but was silenced by Data's hand on her shoulder and the terse shake of his head. Leo turned to face them, her expression equal parts anguish and resignation.

"What's here, it isn't him. Not anymore. There's nobody to read to, nobody to wait for, it's just the body where he used to live. Oh Data, he's really _gone_."

Data would have covered the space between them in a single leap, but Leo's eyes told him _not now. _She addressed Laura in an even voice.

"Is there any brain function at all?"

"The frontal lobes were injured beyond repair, and the hemorrhage and resulting swelling caused further damage to the rest of the brain. Certain portions of the limbic system are intact."

"That's some of the autonomic nervous system, right? So is there any chance at all this could take over if support is removed?"

Laura paused, trying to determine why the question was being asked. Data knew why, and stepped in to answer.

"Depending upon which portions of the limbic area of the brain are functioning, it is possible that, like a damaged machine, they may be able to be repaired sufficiently, or repair themselves, to support very basic bodily functions. After a time, this alone would be insufficient, and even those functions would begin to break down."

Thinking she knew where this was leading, Laura added, "Pain response is still evident."

"You didn't tell me he was in _pain_!" Leo cried out in near panic, and this time Data did go to her. Wrapping one arm around her he turned to Laura and announced sternly, "This is not acceptable."

"No, you misunderstood, I'm sorry…" Laura approached them both, but addressed Leo. "Captain Picard is _not_ in pain, what I meant is that pain is the only stimulus his brain can interpret." She took one of Leo's hands and squeezed hard to focus her attention. "He is _not_ in any pain."

Leo caught her breath, nodding, focused inside her head as she spoke rapidly under her breath. "Okay, okay, he's not in pain… but his body could live without the machines, but nothing would change… it'd end the same way..." Data sensed a sudden physical weakness overcome her, and surreptitiously tightened his grip so the med-tech wouldn't see.

"Tell me what comes next," Leo asked Laura. "What do I have to do?"

"First, I think it's important that you get some rest. If you haven't arranged for a place to stay, we have very comfortable accommodations for visiting family."

"Yes?" Data whispered to Leo, who nodded. "Thank you, that will be helpful for the time being," Data told her.

"I'll take care of the arrangements, then, it won't take long. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Data repeated, still focused on Leo.

When the door shut behind Laura, Leo gasped in an enormous breath and turned to wrap her arms around Data's neck, hugging so tight it would have fractured human vertebrae. He held her there, pressing her head to his shoulder, not speaking for a minute or two. She was trembling violently, but he could tell she wasn't crying. That would come later.

"You are doing very well, my love," he finally told her in his quietest voice.

She raised her head and looked him in the eye. "No, no I'm not." She looked over Data's shoulder at the bed. "He's _gone_, Data… I've always had both of you, everything I am in this world came from _both_ of you. I don't know how to _be_ without both of you!"

Data kissed her gently and reminded her, "You did not know how to 'be' when you first came here, so long ago. You will learn. We both will learn."

They stood there like that, wrapped together in a painfully changed world, until the soft knock at the door announced it was time to begin to live in it.


	3. Scene III, I love you

"We both know why you're here watching this, so I won't compound your pain by belaboring the point. In fact, I resolutely insist on picturing you as you were yesterday when you returned to your home, your husband and the life you love as much as I love my own. You were laughing, shining brightly, basking in your love of the inappropriate. It's something I thank you for, because I've learned to share it too, before it was too late to be enjoyed.

Still, I can't ignore you as you are now… frightened, angry, in deep pain. I know you're angry, Leo, and you have every right to be. After my many failings as a too-long awkward friend, I'm well aware you deserve better than this. But I'm also well aware of how easy it would be for others to allow their faith in the so-called miracles of medical technology to convince them that my decision is merely lacking in that faith. You, I know, are sure and certain that I have made this decision in a clear-headed fashion, and that I am, at the time of this message, in the prime of health.

And so I place my trust in you... you, who come from a place where faith in technology was less than absolute, and balanced by an understanding of more painful realities. That I'm to be the cause of that pain for you grieves me deeply. Yet I hand you this cruel and unfair burden for the simple and selfish reason that I know you well enough to know you won't refuse, no matter how much you want to. Who else can we take the hardest advantage of, but those who love and trust us most?

And added to all of this, I must ask one other favor. Of all of those friends and colleagues who will find this difficult to accept, I believe Will Riker may struggle the most. You're very much alike, believe it or not, and your tendency to let your hearts rule your heads is equaled only by your failure to cover it with righteous bluster. While Will may have the strength of heart to support my decision, it's _your_ heart I must break, because I know you'll recover sooner. Of that I'm sure, because we both know that Data won't allow you to bury yourself in doubts and regret. I'm sad to say, though, that Will Riker has never allowed anyone that power over him, not even Deanna. So even if he fights you, try to understand that the man he is has no choice. If you find yourselves in opposition, oppose him gently.

In the days to come I know you will feel very alone, even with your friends and husband close by. You may feel uncertain, or weak, and hard pressed not to run as far and as fast as you can from what I've asked of you. Those are the times you must take a breath and be still, and think of me, and know that what you are doing is a greater act of friendship than any that came before. Know that I love you, in every best sense of the word, and that I'll stand by you always, as you have always stood by me.

And now, I'll say as I have before, never have there been so many things to say that don't need to be said at all. So I will take advantage of a unique opportunity in our history… I will _finally_ have the last word. Be well, Leora Eileen O'Reilly Soong, unlikely light of my recent life. Discourage others from lamenting that there are no 'miracles' to keep me here. My life as I have lived it has been miracle enough for any man.

Picard out."


	4. Scene IV, Make it so

_Life Systems Support Center, Orion Colony_

* * *

"How does this work?"

Laura indicated the three separate control panels. "The first sequence here, the second here, then the third. They must all be done in order and within a precise measure of time. Then the cortical stimulation will be deactivated."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

Leo looked briefly the ragged piece of paper clutched in her hand. She'd been writing everything down: the communications signatures that Data had used to contact their former command crewmates, the separate clearance to communicate with the Klingon Empire in order to reach Worf on the ship he now commanded. Some of their friends had come here to pay last respects, some were waiting on Earth, where his ashes would be scattered over the land once occupied by his brother's vineyards. Data had contacted everyone they knew, in the end, because after three sleepless days and nights of legal procedures and Starfleet protocols, of lying on the bed in their guest quarters for hours at a time with eyes wide open as Data sat by her and stroked her hair while Geordi alternately slept in the second bedroom or paced the living room, Leo had nothing left inside her to offer anyone.

Data had spent more than two hours with Will Riker once the Enterprise entered orbit, reasoned and debated and, in the end, even comforted him, so there would be no final reproach between himself and Leo. Deanna had finally been able to convince Will of the wisdom of fulfilling the Captain's request, once she'd gone to the medical center and seen where the Captain's body lay on life support. She embraced Data and Leo, and stood at the bedside for an endless time before she turned a tear-stained face to them and told them what they already knew: nothing remained of the Jean Luc Picard they'd known, not even an echo.

Now it all was there on a scrap of paper; pencil and paper, because they comforted Leo as a PADD could not. It was filled with the writing of herself and others. And in this last tiny corner, the three sets of numbers that would bring it all to a close.

She stood not far from Laura, who had been the kindest and most caring guide through this hell that anyone could imagine. She was ready, everyone was ready, yet when Laura reached for the first panel, Leo cried out, "Wait!"

Half a human heartbeat and a nanosecond of positronic processing passed as Laura and an additional med tech and Data braced for what might come next.

"I'll do it," Leo told them in a faint, firm voice. "It's why I'm here, he asked me to help him, so I'll help him all the way." She turned to Data, beseeching, "That's right, isn't it?"

His response was barely a whisper, so only she could hear. "Yes, my love."

So she reviewed the numbers in her hand, and shoved the paper into her pocket and moved to the bed as Laura stepped aside.

"Let me know if…"

"I've got it."

_He's not here anymore…_

Still, she took one still hand in her own and held on tight, and leaned down to whisper into the silent ear, "since no man knows aught he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?" Then she stood, and hesitated. Sick with panic, she shut her eyes, and took a breath, and waited until she heard his voice, calm and strong.

_It's time, Leo. Make it so._

With her free hand she smoothly pressed the sequences on each panel. The blue and red lights on the cortical stimulator went dark. There was no shudder, no gasp. Leo held the still-warm hand until its warmth receded.

"Show me how to take this off," she asked, pointing to the cortical stimulator.

"Our staff will take care of that."

"_Show me_. No more strangers. Not now."

Laura showed her which recessed spots to press to release everything. Leo lifted the stimulator and the surrounding shield with infinite care, and handed them to Laura. What she'd believed would be an empty space beneath was more of a depression in the forehead with a tiny hole at the center.

"Can I have some warm water and a towel, please?" she asked. Laura motioned to the med tech who had stood silently by the door in case of "emergencies". He returned in moments, and Laura took the basin and towel and handed them to Leo, who set the basin on the bedside stand. She wrung the towel out, and very gently wiped the residual conductive gels from the pale skin. This done, she handed the basin back to Laura.

"Thank you, for everything. Data will tell you what we've arranged."

Leo paused only a moment on her way out the door, to step into Data's arms and breathe deeply against his shoulder.

"I would love no other," he whispered, and she nodded and left.

* * *

She went down the corridor and out in to the waiting area, and found Worf waiting for her. Having arrived too late for visitation, he had been kept outside of the patient area. She stopped in the middle of the room, not able to take another step or form another thought. He stood and went to her, towering over, speaking quietly.

"Leora. I am sorry to have been delayed."

"That's okay, Worf, I mean visiting wasn't really…" she trailed off.

"No, I was sorry not to have been here before to assist you with your mental preparations. Were you permitted to perform the final acts of friendship you described to me?"

She nodded. "And I told them no strangers are to be involved from now on. Beverly's staff will bring him home," she faltered for a moment, and looked up to see Worf waiting patiently for her to continue. "To the Enterprise. We'll be taking his ashes to La Barre… can you come, Worf? I know how pleased he'd be to be seen off by you in full regalia."

"What of the Federation, and Starfleet?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. The ones that matter, our former command crewmates, Philippa, Edward Jellico, along with our other friends, Bruce and the Soongs, they'll be at La Barre."

"Then I will be there."

She nodded. "Thank you, for helping me these past few days. Even Data and Geordi, well it just wasn't enough, not for this. I needed something more."

"I am glad to have been able to assist you and the Captain. You have done very well. He would be extremely proud of the way you have honored him, and fulfilled your friendship."

She said in a wondering voice, "It's done, then."

As she shut her eyes and began to shudder, Worf reached out a hand to support her.

"So this is how a warrior feels?" she cried, "It's so _empty_."

He took her firmly by the shoulders and straightened her to look him in the eye.

"Not empty," he corrected in a stern voice. "Limitless. What you and the captain have experienced, what you have done for him today... these things are limitless, and their influence cannot be measured in a single lifetime."

She nodded, took a breath, and wiped her eyes. "You're right. Wait here and I'll get Data, I know he'll be glad to see you."

She left Worf where he was, and returned to the patient area to get Data, who met her halfway.

"How are you feeling, my love?" he asked her gently.

The smile she showed him was faint, but getting stronger.

"Limitless, D." She hugged him tight and kissed him then stepped back and repeated, "I'm feeling _limitless_."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, loyal readers, this is the END. I have nowhere left to take Data and Leo without truly wearing out their welcome. Thank you a million times, readers and reviewers... it's been a six-year blast. **


End file.
